Neu The Neu Bulletin (amy michelle, Island of Love, Khamari and more!)

When Ireland’s amy michelle performed as part of our Hello 2023 series earlier this year, the crowd was so bewitched that you could hear a pin drop. Continuing to deliver that magic, the bedroom-pop leaning artist has shared her stunning new single ‘ode to praying to the answering machine’. The first taste of new EP ‘felicity stories’, the single blends emo tinges with Beabadoobee-esque emotion-filled lyricism, as amy searches “for the answers in somebody who can’t give them to you”. (Elly Watson)

Island of Love originally wrote ‘Fed Rock’ as a stinging commentary on their local scene – little realising they’d soon be airlifted out of it. When Jack White’s Third Man Records heard them play, they made the band their flagship signing before the sweat had dried off their bodies. The immediacy of this single is a good indicator why: it rattles along with zany, breakneck energy, only dropping things down a notch to clear space for spindly Thin Lizzy solos. The video features monkey detectives firing banana guns as they chase down stolen master tapes; fingers crossed they’ll share the loot soon. (Orla Foster)

If your plans for the weekend involve a long, nighttime motorway drive, preferably escaping from and/or running towards an emotional milestone, then the latest from Boston-born Khamari should be firmly on the stereo rotation. The musician’s smooth, modern R&B has already drawn comparisons to Frank Ocean but it’s a parallel that bears repeating: with subtle strings and woozy beats crafting an intimate atmosphere that still prioritises musical space, ahead of an imminent forthcoming debut LP, Khamari’s making all the right moves. (Lisa Wright)

The latest preview of Eloise’s forthcoming debut full-length - the brilliantly-titled ‘Drunk On A Flight’ - her latest track ‘Therapist’ is packed to the brim with frank honesty but still glistens with eye-rolling humour. Diving into struggles of emotional dependency and a general lack of romance (“I don’t wanna talk about your mummy issues if that’s alright / I miss the passion that we had when we used to fight”), the track may be about finally airing your grievances (“I’m not a therapist / I’m not a specialist / I can’t untangle your kind of web”), but its breezy and infectious pop nous makes the whole thing a much easier pill to swallow. (Sarah Jamieson)

Indigo noise is Bleach Lab’s version of white noise: utterly soothing and serene, something you can sink into and watch the world drift by in a haze. However, tucked into ‘Indigo”s sunny depths are a plethora of richer tones, its velvety bass mingled with string synths and moody melodies. Jenna Kyle’s vocals are similarly deep - ethereal but tilting more towards the earthy than the heavenly - keeping the instrumentals grounded in the everyday poetics of Indigo’s lyrics: “You’re outside with the speaker on your phone / You play a song that I don’t know.” (Ims Taylor)

On one hand, the genetically-curated harmonies of 7ebra (aka Swedish twins Inez and Ella) follow compatriots First Aid Kit, their voices innate with the ability to weave around each other in a stream of constant complement. On the other, the Western world’s most infamous twin scenario is one with the ability to instil fear into even those who’ve never seen Jack Nicholson sat at a typewriter. ‘Lighter Better’, set to feature on the duo’s forthcoming debut full-length, is somewhere between these ideas: the perfection with which their call-and-response vocals echo is at once pleasing and disconcerting. There’s a tension in the track’s theme - a lack of light at the end of a tunnel - that is never really resolved, the lyrical and sonic angst left in place by its end that turns what could ultimately be indie niceties into something potentially sinister in all the best ways. (Emma Swann)

On ‘Sally’, gigi wanders through an intimate, delicate landscape crafted only via her reverb-laden vocals and a sparse guitar; the lilt of the melody is almost a lullaby, with the familiarity of a folk song. gigi pleads, reminisces, reflects in vignettes that feel painfully personal but pleasantly universal, whilst the guitar mooches through motifs that echo the lyrics, just building up the comfort as you learn to recognise the melodies before the track sinks into its twinkling, glitchy outro. (Ims Taylor)